


Picnic in the Park

by Lady_Saddlebred



Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me [31]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Saddlebred/pseuds/Lady_Saddlebred
Summary: Ben and Quinn attend a First Call picnic





	

Title: Picnic in the Park 

Author: Lady_Saddlebred (cdelapin@yahoo.com)

Archive: Yes, please

Category: Q/O, Alternate Reality

Rating: PG 

Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me in School (archived)

 

DISCLAIMER: George Lucas owned everything, until he sold it to Disney. We own nothing, just playing in his playground.

 

Special thanks to Katbear and Merry Amelie and Helen, les betas par excellence! Any mistakes are mine.

 

Previous fics in series: all on AO3 website:  
Early Admission  
Lessons They Never Taught Me in School  
Lessons That Were Never on the Syllabus  
That Which Does Not Go to School  
Rainy Day Recess  
Of Popcorn and Pine Trees  
Fit to Print  
Daffodils  
Spring Cotillion  
Is That a Lightsaber I See Before Me?  
A Pen for Your Thoughts  
When I Was Your Age  
Partners  
Mum’s the Word  
Best Laid Plans  
An Apple for Teacher  
What’s for Supper?  
Pacifier  
Snow Angels  
One Man’s Junk  
May I Have This Dance?  
Four Green Fields  
Pomp and Circumstances  
Too Darned Hot  
Summertime Blues  
Blow the Man Down  
Post-Graduate Studies  
Crossing the Pond  
Moving

 

~*~*~*~

 

Ben pulled into a parking space, careful to leave enough room for Quinn’s long legs to comfortably disembark. He’d come to enjoy having his own transportation, and now that he was living at the brownstone, parking was no longer an issue. He dreamed of the day his ’64 Mustang convertible would be ready to hit the streets, but the Taurus would definitely do in the short-term.

 

“Nice location,” Quinn commented, reaching into the back seat for the bottles of dandelion wine they’d agreed to bring. 

 

Ben nodded. “There’s a lake on the other side of the pavilion. We’ll probably see some remote-controlled boats. Ready?” 

 

“As a wise man once said, I was born ready,” Quinn replied with a smile, then moved off, a bottle in each hand. Ben paused to lock the car, which coincidentally afforded him an opportunity to enjoy the sight of his lover in his new Levis. No doubt about it: the man had a *nice* ass.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The picnic was in full swing. Food was set up at one end of the covered pavilion, and the delicious smells of meat on the grill made Quinn’s stomach rumble in anticipation. Ben chuckled beside him.

 

A dark-haired young woman in fashionable “skinny” jeans and a crisp button-down shirt glanced up as they drew near. “Ben, glad you could make it,” Teresa Rivera said, then turned with a smile to Quinn. “Dr. Donovan, isn’t it? Welcome.” She held out her hand, and Quinn took it in his. 

 

“A pleasure to see you again, Ms. Rivera, and thank you for having me. I hope it wasn’t too forward, but we brought along a couple of bottles of dandelion wine.”

 

“He makes it himself,” Ben chimed in.

 

Teresa’s eyes widened. “I haven’t had dandelion wine since I was a child,” she said wistfully. “My grandmother used to make it.”

 

Quinn smiled. “Then you must tell me if it’s up to par,” he said. “Most people have never even heard of it.” He picked up a plastic wineglass from the refreshment table and poured. She sipped, then closed her eyes.

 

“Delicious,” she said blissfully. “You’ve done yourself proud, Professor.”

 

“Thank you,” Quinn replied. “And now that we know you’re an aficionada, Ben will be sure to keep you in good supply.” 

 

She grinned. “I won’t be rude and say no.” 

 

“Is the rest of the team here?” Ben asked. “I wanted them to meet Quinn.”

 

Teresa nodded. “Fred’s manning one of the grills. Paul was down by the lake with some of the kids, educating them on the finer points of navigation. Go enjoy yourselves. And thank you again for the wine, Professor. It was a treat.”

 

“You’re very welcome, and please call me Quinn. None of us are on the clock today.” He set the open bottle down next to her, implying she should help herself. Then he looked over at Ben. “Shall we?”

 

Ben nodded. “I’m starving. Catch you later, Teresa.”

 

They moved toward the pavilion, redolent with mouthwatering smells. Quinn carried the remaining bottle of dandelion wine, which Ben planned to share with his teammates. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Teresa was familiar with it. Quinn was fond of saying that “coincidences” were merely the good Lord acting anonymously. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

They found Fred flipping burgers at the grill. He hardly blinked when introduced to Quinn. Of course, Teresa might have mentioned it to him ahead of time, after she and Ben had discussed Quinn coming as his “date.” They’d garnered a handful of interested glances when they arrived, but it wasn’t as if they were skipping down the path in matching rainbow scarves, or even holding hands. Both men had been brought up to refrain from public displays of affection, as a matter of course. Maybe they’d just been admiring Quinn’s ass, too.

 

They filled their plates with hamburgers, baked beans, salad and corn pudding, then sat at one of the long picnic tables. Quinn set the bottle of wine between them, and Ben looked around for his co-workers. Fred had already laid claim to the first glass, on the report of Teresa’s endorsement. Knowing its potency, and his own low tolerance for alcohol, Ben opted for lemonade. Besides, he was driving.

 

“Ben! Hey, glad you could make it.” Tory waved and strolled over to their table. Quinn stood in deference to the pretty brunette with him, and Ben followed suit. “This is my girlfriend, Sheila Matthews. Sheila, this is Ben Kensington; he just started working with us a couple of months ago.”

 

“Hi, Ben,” Sheila said, with a smile. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Sheila,” Ben said. “This is my… partner, Quinn Donovan.” He stumbled slightly over the introduction, but no one seemed to notice. “You met him at the Academy, Tory, remember? He’s the chairman of the Biology Department.”

 

“Sure, I remember. Nice to see you again, sir. Enjoying the party?”

 

“Very much,” Quinn said easily. He gestured to the table. “Won’t you join us?”

 

“Thanks. Honey, have a seat and I’ll get us some food.” Tory gave Sheila a quick kiss, then headed for the grill. She sat down opposite Quinn and Ben. “How do you like working for First Call, Ben?” she asked.

 

“It’s great. I’m learning a lot, and Tory’s been really good to work with.”

 

“And what do you do, Sheila?” Quinn asked politely.

 

“I’m a full-time student right now,” she answered, “working on my Master’s in Accounting. I’m hoping to go into the forensic side of it, maybe with the FBI or the IRS.”

 

Quinn gave a low whistle of approval. “I’m impressed. Accounting was one of the hardest subjects I ever took as an undergraduate. I’m sure you’ll succeed beyond your wildest expectations.” 

 

Tory and Fred returned, holding plates of food. “I decided to let someone else cook for a while,” Fred joked. “Didn’t want to miss out on the infamous homemade wine.”

 

“Well, wait no longer,” Quinn said, uncapping the bottle. “Of course, I’ll need to see some ID first. This is, after all, an *adult* beverage.” 

 

Everyone laughed and made a show of digging out driver’s licenses. At the first sip, Sheila’s eyes watered, and she started coughing. “I’m fine, just took too big a swallow,” she said weakly. “It’s delicious, really.”

 

“You’re not having any, Ben?” Fred asked, nodding at his cup.

 

Ben shook his head and grinned. “I’ve had enough of it to know it’ll put me on my you-know-what. I’ll wait until we get home, where I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself.” 

 

Thanh and Erik wandered into the pavilion, and Fred motioned them over. They, too, gave the wine two big thumbs up. Ben made a mental note to gift each of them -- and Teresa -- with a bottle at Christmas. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

After lunch, Ben and Quinn wandered down to the lake, where they found Paul surrounded by a group of kids, playing with a remote-controlled sailboat. She was a beauty, with pristine white sails and a curved wooden bow that gleamed bravely in the afternoon sunlight. She glided over the water like a queen, bending to port or starboard on command. Quinn avidly tracked her every move.

 

“Hi, Paul, how’s it going?” Ben said quietly, not wanting to disturb his concentration. 

 

“Hey, buddy,” Paul said genially. “Glad you could make it. Having a good time?”

 

“Yeah.” He gestured to the sailboat. “She’s a gem. Make her yourself?”

 

Paul nodded proudly. “I bring her to all these events. The kids love her.” He glanced over at Quinn, a few feet away, eyes riveted on the small vessel. “Who’s your friend? He looks familiar.”

 

“You met him at the school. Quinn Donovan, head of the Bio Department. Quinn, say hello to Paul Mitchell.”

 

With difficulty, Quinn tore his gaze away from the boat. “Good afternoon, Paul,” he said politely. “She’s a magnificent craft. Did I hear you say you made her yourself?”

 

“Affirmative,” Paul replied. “Like to give her a try?” He held out the remote-control, over the loud objections from the kids, who were practically climbing over one another to get to it first. “Pipe down, you landlubbers,” he scolded. “Age before beauty.”

 

Quinn gingerly accepted the control box, and Paul showed him how to work the joystick. The boat responded like a leaf on a pond, and he laughed out loud. “She’s *brilliant*!”

 

Paul stepped away a pace or two, and Ben instinctively followed. “What’s an Academy professor doing here?” Paul asked curiously. 

 

Ben smiled. “He’s my date.”

 

Paul’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. Didn’t see *that* coming. We’d kinda figured you had something going with that pretty Ms. Billingsley in the Dean’s office.”

 

“Nope. Quinn and I have been together about a year now,” Ben said nonchalantly. 

 

Paul scratched the back of his head and resettled his USN ball cap. He glanced again at Quinn, knee-deep in kids and chortling over the boat. “You’ve got balls, dude, bringing him to the picnic,” he said admiringly. “Good for you.”

 

Ben frowned. “Teresa said it wasn’t a big deal, as long as he didn’t have anything to do with the contracts, which he doesn’t.”

 

Paul shook his head. “No, I mean bringing a *him*. *Any* him. I’m betting not many people had you pegged as being gay.” He grinned. “Including me. But then I don’t pretend to be able to see inside people’s heads.” He studied Quinn, still engrossed in the sailboat. “You should get him one for Christmas,” he added. “I think he’d make off with mine, given half a chance.”

 

Ben chuckled. “Are you kidding? The man’s scared to death of his own laptop. He’s the original Luddite. But ask him about plants or bacteria, and he’ll talk your ear off.”

 

“Hey, everybody needs a hobby, pal,” Paul joked. 

 

Quinn walked over to them. “Thank you very much, Paul. She’s a beauty. You’re to be congratulated.” He carefully handed him back the remote-control box. His smile was pleasant, but Ben sensed the protective instinct under the surface, and moved to intercept.

 

“Paul says you need one of your own. Maybe Santa will bring you one for Christmas, if you’re a good boy,” he said lightly.

 

Quinn beamed. “I’ll start writing my letter tonight.” 

 

“Don’t fall for any of those flashy Net ads,” Paul warned. “Their stuff is mostly crap. You want a good one.” He hesitated. “I could give you some suggestions on what to look for.” 

 

“Thanks, Paul. I have a feeling we’ll be talking.” Ben gave his colleague a grateful smile.

 

“You were in the Navy, Paul?” Quinn asked, nodding at the ball cap.

 

“Yes, sir, twenty years,” Paul said. “Proud to serve my country.”

 

“I’m sure,” Quinn agreed. “As a non-U.S. citizen, may I thank you for your years of service? My brother-in-law is with the Irish Coast Guard in County Antrim.”

 

“No kidding?” Paul asked interestedly. “My hat’s off to the Coasties. Those search-and-rescue guys are in a class all their own.” He grinned. “And it’s nice to have someone my *own age* to talk to for a change. These kids make me feel old as dirt.”

 

Quinn chuckled. “Heard that. I teach at university level, but the students look younger every year. My deterrents call me ‘Professor Fossil’. Good thing I have tenure.” He rested a casual hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Even yer man here occasionally makes me feel like a creaky senior citizen. He runs circles around me when it comes to anything computer-related.”

 

Paul nodded. “Technology’s the wave of the future, but it can be tough on us pre-Millennials.” He tucked the remote under his arm and moved toward the bank, retrieving the sailboat from the water. There were loud cries of protest from the kids, but he shook his head. “Enough for one day, troops. Give the old man a rest, okay?” He turned back to Quinn and Ben. “I’m going to put this baby in the car. Then I’m going to go find something to drink. Care to join me?”

 

Both men nodded and followed him back up the hill.

 

~*~*~*~

 

They found the rest of the team, including Teresa, still sitting at the picnic table. The wine bottle was empty. “You snooze, you lose, buddy,” Erik kidded a downcast Paul. “That’s some good stuff, Professor. Got any more?”

 

Quinn shook his head. “Not with me, sorry. And I’d not want anyone getting wasted on it. It’s pretty potent.”

 

Ben grinned. “But seeing as how everybody seems to like it so much, maybe we’ll have you guys over to the house some time soon, and you can have some more then.” He hardly believed his own daring.

 

“Where do you live?” Thanh asked. 

 

“We have a brownstone about a mile from the Academy campus,” Ben explained. “About a half hour from headquarters.”

 

“We’d love to have you over,” Quinn affirmed. “Anyone like spaghetti?”

 

There was a loud chorus of “Yeah!” and “Who doesn’t?” and “I’m there!” and Quinn laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he quipped, “or would that be ‘Hell, yes!’?”

 

“Feed them and they will come,” Teresa said, with a smile. “And, Paul, if you ask nicely, I might be convinced to share.” She held up the corked second bottle. “Rank hath its privileges.”

 

Paul grinned and held out his cup.

 

~the end~


End file.
